


Under the Mistletoe

by onotherflights



Series: Prompt fills & Ficlets [10]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Otayuri Gift Exchange, gratuitous kisses and christmas movie references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 16:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13127526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onotherflights/pseuds/onotherflights
Summary: There were no stockings hung by any fire with care, but their fuzzy socks were building up static electricity.Or; Otabek and Yuri spend the holidays together.





	Under the Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this melts everyone's ice hearts because this is the fluffiest thing i've written in months and i'm not sure i can angst anymore now. This is also a gift for Anakito over on tumblr for the Otayuri Gift Exchange, who requested a mistletoe kiss.
> 
> they also requested fairy folklore but i got carried away with that and the 5k WIP is sitting in my drafts, so let's all collectively wait for that to see the light of day. 
> 
> Anyways, Happy Holidays everyone!

 

There were no stockings hung by any fire with care, but their fuzzy socks were building up static electricity. 

It was so bad that it almost seemed criminal to get up from the sofa for any more cookies or mulled wine, and staying curled up together seemed to be a much better (and safer) option. Yuri didn’t like the tiny jolt of discomfort he received if he would return after an absence and be shocked. He very much rather never leave Otabek’s arms. 

They had already gone through all the necessary movies, laughing into the soft skin of each other’s necks and muttering, “keep the change, you filthy animal” right on time with the voice emitting from the tv. Yuri has promised he would lasso the moon for Otabek and pull it down, twice. 

Holiday time for them meant all of the luxuries they weren’t normally afforded. They had spent hours wasting away the morning, not wanting to leave the warmth of their bed. That in itself was a strange illusion, some might even say a miracle. It wasn’t really their bed, after all, just the bed that belonged in the house they were renting for the week. In another week, it would be somebody else’s bed. Would the next couple be as young and in love as they were? Would they kiss goodnight endlessly, wearily, until they fell asleep still intertwined? Of course, maybe that was only a seasonal thing. 

Otabek had gained cookie weight, to Yuri’s absolute delight. He’d brought along his mother’s recipe for almond cookies, which they soaked in freshly brewed chai in the mornings and coated with powdered sugar in the evenings, eating them by the fire after supper and sharing a mug of cold milk. Otabek would complain that his training regime was ruined, and Yuri was all too blame. That would make the blonde laugh, the blankets curling with him when he rolled over to face his boyfriend, and kiss him from his face to his perfectly fine stomach. Then he would pop his head back up and trace a finger along Otabek’s cheek and suggest activities that would put both of their fitness routines right back on track. 

That was another thing, Otabek had forgotten his razor. That was a season’s gift in itself, feeling the stubble brush against his soft skin whenever they kissed. Most people didn’t particularly subscribe to that sort of thing. Yuri was not most people. 

When they finally did make it out of their cocoon, they liked to cook or go out into the snow. Skiing was a whole new venture for them, one that resulted in a healthy dose of competition. Normally, they never talked to each other like competitors. From the very beginning, when they were still calling what they had only a friendship, they always supported each other. It was more natural than ever trying to one-up the other. 

Skiing, however, was not either of their chosen passions, so it was perfectly acceptable for Yuri to yell “eat my frost, Altin!” as he zoomed past.   
  


 

Potya had adjusted well to the new situation. It was the first time she’d ever been around Otabek for so long, usually it was only a night here or there when they could plan it right. She was only mildly offended that Otabek occupied a sleeping space that was usually hers, but she sought revenge each morning. She would pounce over the hill that was the curve of Otabek’s bottom under the blankets, crawling between the two sleeping forms until someone woke up to a tail in their face. 

It was on one of those same mornings when Yuri woke up to find that it was his turn. His nose twitched a couple of times, and then his eyes fluttered open and he gave a soft groan, pulling his face higher up the pillow. It was only when he focused through the new sunshine that he realized Otabek was already awake, staring at him. 

Yuri flushed, pulling the blanket up to cover his exposed chest and letting an arm fall over his forehead. Otabek instantly let his fingers intertwine and play with Yuri’s. 

“Creep,” he teased, but it did nothing to make Otabek look away or deny that he had indeed been watching Yuri wake up. 

“I wish I could have this on loop,” he murmured softly, kissing their connected fingers. 

“Watching me sleep?” 

A crack of a smile formed. “Watching you wake up next to me,” he corrected. 

Yuri’s heart swelled, maybe not three sizes in one day, but close. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that they didn’t get to do that everyday, something so simple as waking up in the same place at the same time. He didn’t like to dwell on it. 

They also didn’t dwell in bed for long, since it was officially presents day. Since neither of them formed one solid set of beliefs, they did away with any religious ritual during that time of year. Gifts, though, were an acceptable tradition. 

They exchanged toothpaste-flavored kisses on the sofa before tearing into the boxes they’d exchanged, each of them setting the cards aside wordlessly. They both knew they would read them later, when they were separated and missing the other and the words would mean even more. 

The gifts were simple, practical. New blade guards, new headphones. A trip to Bali to plan and talk constantly of until the off season. 

A set of arm bands with coordinates engraved into each of them, one silver and one gold. One for Almaty and one for St. Petersburg. 

“Beka, you sap,” Yuri smiled with eyes that shined and crawled onto his lap to kiss him, ignoring the way Potya stole the discarded wrapping paper and jetted off to have her way with it. 

Yuri was used to spending most of his time away from home. When he had met Otabek, that began to mean something different entirely. 

At least now, whenever he missed home, all he would have to do was look down at his wrist, trail his fingers over the engraving, and count the days until he would be home again. 

Home used to be a place, an apartment, a city. Now home was found between two arms.

 

After a gluttonous lunch that neither of their fitness routines or any extracurricular activities could possibly cancel out, they found themselves on the sofa again, sharing a large knit blanket and a bag of leftover cookies. 

“Keep the change, you filthy animal,” They muttered in unison with the movie that was on its third run of the week, with admittedly less vigor than the first time. Still, Otabek’s attempt at a New York accent was hilarious. 

Potya lounged at Yuri’s feet on her back, kicking and swiping lazily for the toy above her. 

Otabek liked spoiling Potya and her owner in equal measure, that was no secret. So that she didn’t feel left out with the gifts, he’d found a wand with a felt mistletoe toy on the end of the string, and he’d bought it thinking it suited the season. 

Yuri leaned back against Otabek’s chest, watched as his cat lost interest in the toy, her grabs less frequent. He smirked, “I don’t think you’ll be getting a kiss from this mistletoe, Otya.” 

At the name of affection, he hummed contentedly, “You know, like all holiday traditions, the history of the mistletoe is actually pretty weird.” 

Yuri half listened as his boyfriend started to talk about some Norse Goddess crying and kissing her son or something, Otabek tended to be a well of quirky information, ranging from obscure music knowledge to more history than Yuri himself ever cared for. He tended to be more of youthfully sentimental person, who ached for things he was familiar with in this lifetime. He only cared about things he could hold between his hands, in that very moment. 

He turned around to face Otabek, still warm under the same blanket. When Yuri took the wand from him and positioned the fake mistletoe over their heads, he stopped talking of crying goddesses completely.

“Just shut up and k-“ 

Before Yuri could command him to, hands were around his waist and pulled him in. A palm moved up to cradle his face, and warm lips met his own, only a slight taste of almond to greet him when those same lips parted. Without even being told to, Otabek kissed him like the present moment would be the only one they had. 

Soft and warm, Otabek slowly let his forehead rest against Yuri’s. They were still too young to have traditions together, but time would fix that. In their lives together, time was the greatest gift they could give each other. 

“Merry Christmas, Yura.” 

 


End file.
